All Nighter
by Dark Kuno
Summary: Jane hasn't been sleeping lately. Something has been keeping her up at night and both she and Daria are surprised for find out exactly what it is.


Disclaimer:

This fan fiction and associated stories were written for entertainment purposes only.

No money or other negotiable currency or goods have been exchanged.

Daria and associated characters are owned by MTV with all appropriate rights reserved.

* * *

**All Nighter**  
-

"You look even less chipper than normal this morning," commented Daria as she stood before a haggard Jane. "Run out of coffee again?"

"Coffee is the only reason I'm even upright right now," replied Jane.

"Long night working on a new artistic expression of your inner child, or outer slacker, or whatever it is you're expressing this week?" inquired Daria.

"More like a soon to be perpetrator of fratricide," stated Jane as she angrily slammed her front door closed with enough force to shake the house.

"Unless Wind found and was subsequently dumped by another wife, I assume you're referring to Trent," inferred Daria as she and Jane began their walk to LHS. "Another all night jam session with the Spiral?"

"Not unless there's something Trent and guys haven't told me," stated Jane through a yawn. "No Trent has apparently got a new girlfriend and she's very… vocal."

"More info that I needed," commented Daria with a blush.

"They've been at it almost every night for the past two weeks. It hasn't been a real issue except that I left my earplugs at your place after the last Spiral gig. I had to listen to the two of them going at it… repeatedly… all… night… long." said Jane. "I think I may be scarred for life."

The two made the rest of the way to school in relative silence (excluding the occasional yawn from Jane).

"Hey! Isn't that Trent's car?" asked Daria as she and Jane approached the school's parking lot and noticed a battered Plymouth Satellite near the side entrance.

"I doubt it," said Jane groggily. "The Marathon Man was apparently finishing the latest leg of his race when I answered the door."

"Again, more info than required," responded Daria as she paused to get a second look at the familiar vehicle. "That _**is**_ Trent's car."

"What? How can you tell?" asked Jane as she stepped up beside her friend to get a better view.

The two girls took note of the fact that Trent, identified easily by his tribal tattooed arms draped casually along the hips of the red haired woman he was currently kissing... quite passionately.

"Aside from the fact that he and his new girlfriend appear to be in the middle of a public make-out that would put Kevin and Brittany to shame on the hood of said car?" deadpanned Daria.

"What the hell are they doing here?" fumed Jane.

"Trying to figure out what the other had for lunch yesterday by taste it would seem," quipped Daria.

"I should go over and give them a piece of my…" began Jane only to stop mid sentence and stare open-mouthed at her brother and his female partner.

"Jane? You OK?" asked Daria as she noticed her friends completely dumbfounded expression.

The bespectacled teen returned her attention towards Trent's car and finally got a view of the woman's face as she disengaged from Trent and headed towards a side door of the school.

"Ms. Defoe?"

* * *

The next week and a half continued in similar vein. Daria would arrive at Jane's at the usual time and be greeted by a progressively more haggard looking Jane.

The two would reach the school in time to catch a glimpse of Trent's car either arriving in the side parking lot shortly before or after they did. On occasion they would even catch a glimpse of it passing the pair, sometimes headed towards the school and sometimes headed back towards the Lane home.

* * *

Daria sat beside Jane at a table in art class as the two worked on their current assignment. As Daria put some extra touches on her rudimentary sketch, she glanced over at her friend's paper to see what interesting image Jane had decided to render. Her eyebrow rose when she observed the page was completely blank.

"Going for the minimalist approach are we," she commented.

The lack of reply brought her attention up from the paper to her friend's face. It was then she noticed that Jane was fast asleep in an upright position with pencil still gripped firmly in her hand.

"That's a lovely use of shading to present a sense of depth and texture Daria," came Ms. Defoe's voice from beside her.

Daria looked turn to see the teacher standing besides her examining her paper.

"Uh… thanks," Daria responded.

"Is Jane alright," the woman asked as she noticed her star pupil sleeping soundly and snoring lightly.

"That's mostly a matter of perspective," quipped Daria. "No she's fine… just tired. She hasn't been sleeping very well lately. Something about a noise pollution problem at home keeping her up all night."

"Really? I don't remember…" began the teacher before she realized she was about to admit to being at the Lane's home during those times.

A proverbial light went off over the woman's head and a light blush began to spread across her face as she connected the dots.

"I… uh… I'm sure she'll... she'll be fine," Defoe stuttered. "We'll just let the dear sleep for a bit."

As the teacher turned and hurriedly walked towards Brittany's easel, Daria gave a subdued smile and continued shading the image she had been working on.

* * *

Daria and Jane walked casually away from the school that Friday afternoon. Jane yawned occasionally and trudged along beside her friend.

"You know Defoe caught you sleeping in art class today," stated Daria.

"Damn," the dark haired girl swore. "Wait, if she caught me sleeping why didn't either of you wake me up."

"Oh I mentioned that you hadn't been sleeping well due to a, quote 'a noise pollution problem at home' unquote," the shorter girl answered. "She almost said something I imagine would have been self incriminating before deciding to let you sleep and hurrying off to help Brittany."

"I don't know how much more of this I can take amiga," stated Jane through yawns.

"I'm surprised you haven't just let them know that you know," commented Daria.

"I haven't had the chance really," said Jane. "I'm barely conscious in the morning… Or during school for that matter."

"And that's different your normal state how?" joked Daria which drew a tired glare from her friend. "But there has to have been at least one moment when you could catch either of them between school and their attempts to drive Trent's bed through the floor."

"Kind of hard to talk to her about it in a classroom full of students and after school, she vanishes like the wind," answered Jane.

"What about Trent?" Daria offered.

"When he's not burrowing the gopher, he's asleep. And all the normal stuff that wakes him up won't work any more," informed Jane.

" 'Burrowing the gopher'?" inquired Daria with a raised eyebrow.

"I was going for a new metaphor," she explained before she gave up on defending her poor euphemism. "Screw it, I'm too tired for verbal gymnastics right now. Anyway, by the time I get home, she and Trent are already in his room, going at it like rabbits."

"You know you can always crash at my house this weekend," responded Daria.

"That's a tempting offer, but I really need to deal with this," Jane said with a long breath.

"It's lasagna night," Daria enticed in a sing-song manner.

"When is it not lasagna night at your place?" asked Jane seriously.

"I vaguely remember hamburgers one night... I think that was this year," deadpanned Daria. "Look, you can barely keep up a casual conversation as tired as you are. I doubt you'll be able to think clearly enough... hell I doubt you'll be able to stay awake through a serious conversation with either Trent or Ms. Defoe right now. What's one more day going to matter?"

"Won't your parents have a problem with me squatting for the weekend without a heads up?" asked Jane.

"Even if she noticed you were there, I doubt Mom would have a problem with it. And for some reason that I don't understand, Dad actually likes you. Must be a congenital disorder he passed along to me," Daria added with a smirk. "But I'm sure there's medication or therapy of some kind we can look into to cure us."

"Curse you and your damnable logic Morgendorffer," stated Jane between yawns as the two girls reached the front door to her house. "Just let me grab a change of clothes and my toothbrush."

As soon as the door opened, the two high-schoolers were assaulted by a rhythmic thumping and loud passionate declarations emanating from the level above them. The sounds of coming from upstairs caused a nuclear blush to spread across Daria's face and elicited an angry muttering from Jane.

"I… uh… think you left a few shirts and a pair of jeans at my house last time you were over," offered Daria.

"Let's just get out of here before they manage to bring the whole house down on us," commented Jane.

* * *

The next afternoon, Daria and a much refreshed Jane exited Pizza King and began to make their way toward Howard Drive.

Daria was actually surprised she had been able to get Jane up that afternoon. She chalked it up to Jane not being as well trained in professional sleeping as her brother (who was apparently breaking quite spectacularly from his own narcoleptic routine these days). That and the fact that after inhaling three servings of microwave lasagna, the artist had gone comatose for almost a full 24 hours as soon as she dragged herself upstairs to Daria's room.

"I appreciate the amoral support amiga," commented Jane as they rounded the corner onto Howard Drive.

"I think you appreciated a quiet place to sleep a bit more," commented Daria. "I'm just glad I found those ear plugs you misplaced earlier."

"I do NOT snore," asserted Jane before adding much more quietly. "That badly."

"No, not at all," agreed Daria sarcastically. "I'm just glad I was able to convince Dad not to call Park Services and Animal Control because he thought a bear had managed to get into my room."

"Speaking of which, sorry for taking your bed from you," commented Jane sheepishly. "I was in pure zombie mode about halfway through that 2nd plate of lasagna."

"I figured as much," replied Daria. "Besides, the photos I took of you in varying compromising positions while you slept will more than make up for one night on the floor."

"Please tell me you're joking," remarked Jane.

"That's for me to know and you to be ashamed of for the rest of your adult life," quipped Daria.

"As long as I get a cut of the sales, I could be convinced not to bitterly despise you for the next few decades," said Jane with a smirk.

"I'll have Mom draw up some contracts next time you come over," stated Daria with a half smile.

"Of course I could just see if Ms. Defoe will let you borrow the Mystik Love Machine for a while in exchange for the negatives," teased Jane.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate you lately," deadpanned Daria as she fought to prevent the blush that threatened to explode across her face.

"Well, you had your chance Missy. Looks like you'll never know the sweet, and apparently tireless, love of Trent," teased Jane.

"The depths of my hatred for you now know no bounds," stated Daria flatly.

"And speaking of which…" began Jane as she looked up at her house.

"Sure you don't want me here for additional amoral support?" asked Daria.

"Naah," assured Jane. "As much as I'd enjoy the embarrassment factor for you… this is essentially family business. And after the last major situation, I think you've already exceeded your ration of family dysfunction for the quarter."

"Call me later," prompted Daria.

"Bank on it, amiga," assured Jane.

After watching Daria head back up the driveway, Jane closed the door and glanced at the ceiling. Relegating the passionate declarations issuing from the floor above to the back of her mind, Jane calmly entered the kitchen and retrieved a large plastic bucket used for mopping. She filled the bucket most of the way full from the sink and even took the time to crack a tray of ice cubes into the already cold water.

She moved up the steps with as much stealth as she could muster. Although, given her brother and teacher's usual disregard for any other residents of the house, stealth was mostly unnecessary. She paused at the door to her brother's room and took a deep breath before she kicked the door in with all of the considerable leg strength she could muster. In that same instant, she emptied the bucket of ice laden water onto the couple currently passionately fornicating on the bed before her.

Claire Defoe let out an almost painful shriek of surprise accompanied by Trent's equally shocked bellow. The two disengaged and scrambled to cover themselves with the, now soaked, bed sheets as they stared slack jawed at the girl standing in the doorway.

"Now that I have your full attention," began Jane calmly with a wicked smirk at the two sodden adults in front of her. "I'm gonna talk and you're gonna listen."

"Janey!" began Trent as he hastily grabbed a pillow to cover his lower portions.

A glare from his baby sister, colder than the ice water she had doused him with, made him think better of continuing to speak.

Claire displayed her wisdom and merely nodded her understanding without speaking as she wiped water from her eyes with one hand while holding the wet sheets up an attempt at modesty.

She pushed the old lounge chair slowly in front of the bed and set her ice blue gaze on Trent and Claire.

"Now the fact that my favorite brother is stress testing his mattress my favorite teacher doesn't really bug me all that much," Jane informed.

"Frankly, I'm kind of glad to know you have developed a modicum of good taste oh brother-o-mine," she continued with a small smile drawing a warm smile from Claire and a nervous look from Trent. "However, we're going to have to lay down some ground rules here."

"Um... Janey it's kinda cold in here. Can we at least get our clothes? Maybe a towel or something?" asked Trent.

"Oh no," denied Jane. "You are going to sit right there until I've said what I need to say."

When neither adult voiced any further complaints, the raven haired girl continued.

"First and most important, you two need to either start getting hotel rooms, buy a gag for Screaming Mimi here or take the love fest over to her house," Jane stated as she focused her gaze on the highly embarrassed art teacher. "The only likely reason I haven't gone all Lizzie Borden on you two is because sleep deprivation and the amount of physical labor required for a good killing spree don't really work well with each other."

"And second," the young woman continued. "While, I'm sure it's a great story and my curiosity will get the better of me eventually… for now I don't EVER want to know how you two started bumping uglies in the first place."

Clair blushed right down to her toes at Jane's comments and said, "I am so sorry Jane dear. I didn't realize until yesterday that our… activities… we're so disruptive."

"I actually came over right after school with the intention of discussing things with Trent," the woman continued with a pat on her lover's leg. "But I guess we never quite made it to the discussion part."

"Sorry Janey," Trent offered sheepishly.

"It's OK Miz D. It's good to know Trent is good at least one thing," teased Jane with a wink at her brother who merely coughed nervously and blushed a bit in response. "But seriously take it to your place or at least stop turning the dial to 11."

"It's just so difficulty to get together at my apartment," stated Defoe with long restrained, but obvious frustration.

Jane was well aware of the fact that the teacher's former college roommates were still residing with her in the small studio apartment she called her home. The place would have been fine for Clair alone although it was barely big enough for the two people it was originally intended to house. Jane couldn't imagine how Ms. Defoe and the three "squatters" managed it.

"Now that does make sense," admitted Jane. "But seriously, try to keep it to a quiet roar. Some of us actually like to actually sleep once in a while."

"Again I'm so sorry Jane," apologized Claire.

"Yeah me to Janey," offered Trent.

Jane walked over to stand beside her brother on the bed and ruffled his damp spiky hair.

"It's ok Trent," she soothed with a grin. "Ya done good. I'd say you've got a keeper but I'm just a touch biased."

Clair blushed again and smiled at the younger woman.

"Of course, screw this one up and the next time I'll use hot water," she threatened as she dropped the empty plastic bucket on top of the soggy pillow currently covering her brother's privates before exiting the room.

* * *

Inspired by Iron Chef challenge A Cougar Story at PPMB


End file.
